HORSING AROUND
Claire Irvin saddles up on the ultimate seahorse
Disclaimer. I love horses. And, after a 20-year hiatus, I love horse riding. I also love the sea, and am not unfamiliar with a wetsuit. But, opening the blinds of our chi-chi rental on Porthminster Beach in Cornwall, England, to a mizzly morning atop a grey, listing Celtic Sea, even I baulked at the idea of getting into it on horseback. However, my eight-year-old Amelie was at fever-pitch excitement, and so off to Peep Out Training Yard we went. Cornwall Swimming Horses is run by owner Chris and manager Shel. Having grown up in the Caribbean, where swimming with horses was just “what you did”, Chris decided to continue it when he moved to the UK.
Something inside me died when we were told it was “time to connect with your horses.” Really?
But this, dear reader, is where the magic happened. Here, horses live and work in herds, and are treated with respect and love.
Witnessing the deep connection between each horse and Shel and Chris was mindblowing and we were encouraged to forge one too, via a couple of short exercises and eye contact. (Yes really.) And looking in
Bella’s big brown eyes, I felt I knew and trusted her. Just as well, as within seconds I was riding her bareback with nothing but a rope bridle between me and the moors.
We set off, accompanied by experienced handlers, along dirt tracks, through fields of swaying purple agapanthus, and finally to a misty stretch of Long Rock beach.
As we filed into the water, instructed to remain at knee depth, the sea mist suddenly cleared, and with it my nerves. St Michael’s Mount appeared on the horizon in all its glory.
We began walking through the water, a curious sensation of horsepower against tide. Once my body relaxed, I tried to make my face do the same. It was then that I realised I was already beaming.
We trotted, back and forth. And then Chris swam out into the ocean, followed willingly by Bella, who swam with her head up, smiling. All I had to do was hang on to her mane. It was exhilarating and moving.
We swapped mounts and I swam with Gigi. She submerged all but her nostrils, grunting and making little whale clicks. I worried that she didn’t like it. “Try and make her go back to the beach then,” said Chris. His case was rested pretty quickly.
Then, it was playtime. “Go on,” urged Shel, her eyes dancing. “You and Amelie ride Bella together.” Minutes later, Amelie was clambering from horse to horse, doing bareback acrobatics and shrieking with laughter as Chris pushed her off into the sea.
All too soon it was time to get out of the water and ride back. It now felt like a very special secret. “It was one of the best things ever, mummy!” said Amelie.
I’ll second that. ● L S. © The Daily Telegraph
● See cornwallswimminghorses.co.uk